The Greener Grass
by guiltipanda
Summary: A simple story about how awkward budding romance can be. [Written for SayaLeigh as part of the Prumano Secret Santa. Rated T for minor language.]


**For SayaLeigh.**

 **Merry -late- Christmas, SayaLeigh! Hope you like it!  
**

 **(Oh, and look at that, I actually called South Italy by the name Lovino for once.)**

 **Prompt: College AU**

* * *

As much as he tried to convince everyone differently, Lovino wasn't oblivious to his classmates' existence. He could recognize them if they passed by him in the halls of the school. He even knew some of their names. When Gilbert tapped his arm while he was hurriedly gathering his things to leave the classroom and said, "Hey," wasn't the first time Lovino had noticed him. If Lovino were being completely honest, that would have been the first day of psychology class. Gilbert had been wearing a map of Middle Earth t-shirt. Lovino had thought about complimenting him on it, if he was the type of person to freely give compliments to guys he didn't know. Gilbert had looked handsome in it, and Lovino swore to himself that it was just the shirt—except now that they were standing right beside each other and Lovino was looking directly at him, he knew that that wasn't the case.

"Do you want to study with me later?" Gilbert asked.

"Uuh."

Lovino's initial response was to say no. He didn't like to study with other people. He didn't really like _people_ in general. But this was his first semester at university, and he was still trying to get used to it. Their professor had recommended that they study for the test next week in groups, and the first test was always the hardest. Plus, he had a habit of spacing out instead of taking notes. Not to mention that, knowing himself as he did, he probably wouldn't buckle down and study if he was left to do it alone.

And, no, his decision was not at all influenced by the fact that Gilbert looked like an anxious puppy and was, dare Lovino even think it, pretty adorable.

"Okay," he said.

Gilbert beamed like the sun. Lovino swallowed hard.

"Tomorrow?" he asked. "I get out of class at one."

Lovino nodded. "That works."

"We can meet in the library. Sound good?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I'll see you then!"

It wasn't until after Gilbert had left the room that Lovino, trying to collect himself and remember what he'd been doing before the interruption, realized his hand was cramping from the way he nervously clutched the strap of his backpack.

 _Fuck_.

He spent more energy than should have been necessary in the time leading up to the appointed study session preventing himself from obsessing over it. It didn't really work. He still planned conversations that he knew weren't going to go according to his script. He gave an unusual amount of thought to how he should dress and comb his hair. Having nothing to do after he ate lunch that momentous day, he made himself lie down on his dorm room bed to keep from pacing the floor and constantly checking himself in the mirror for imperfections.

 _I should just avoid social interaction altogether. It would be so much easier._

Looking at his phone, he saw it was 12:37. _I can be a little early. It won't seem weird. Probably._ It was certainly better than staring at the wall with an endless chorus of petrified screams stringing through his head. He stood up, grabbed a coat, and headed for the door.

"I'm leaving," he said to his roommate. Antonio looked up from the open book on his desk.

"Do you have another date?"

He smiled like he didn't realize how that question made Lovino sound just a little bit like a man-whore. Lovino frowned indignantly. "No. I'm going to study with someone."

"Oh, study dates are cute."

"It's not a date."

"Is she pretty?" Antonio asked without missing a beat.

"He."

"Is he pretty?"

"No. Kinda—No. Shut up. I'm leaving."

Lovino slammed the door shut behind him. Precisely one second after doing so, he realized he'd left his keys inside. Not wanting to face the humiliation of knocking on the door after so powerful an exit, he turned down the hallway and continued on his way.

He reached the library by 12:49, tripped going up the steps, and stopped in front of the doors underneath the canopy. It occurred to him at that moment that the university's library was a big place, and not too specific a meeting spot. It was better to wait outside the main entrance till Gilbert showed up. _If_ he showed up. It was entirely possible, especially with Lovino's luck, that he'd forgotten.

 _I should have asked for his number_ , Lovino thought, even though he knew that he would never have done such a thing.

He played on his phone, because not only did it give him something to do while he waited, but it enabled him to check his clock every two minutes and still look casual about it. He glanced up just as Gilbert was approaching the library, and then immediately turned his eyes back down to pretend that he hadn't noticed him.

Gilbert bounded up the stairs with a smile plastered on his face. "You're early!"

Only once he'd been addressed did Lovino feel it was okay to acknowledge Gilbert's presence. "You're—glasses," were the words that came out of his mouth, much to his horror.

He had looked up, already knowing what he was going to say, when he was struck by the object sitting on the other man's face. Lovino had never seen Gilbert wearing glasses before. His brain had decided, without his permission, that this was a significant turn of events that must be commented on. Never before had he been so grateful for the existence of homophones.

"I mean, they're, um, nice," he amended quickly, hoping Gilbert wouldn't suspect anything. The rectangular, wire-framed lenses did suit him well. He repositioned them on his face with a chortle, and Lovino thought it might be possible for him to hate someone for being so ridiculously attractive.

They found a table by a window in the corner of the library, behind the reference section, and laid out their notes and textbooks. "Okay," Gilbert began, "so, what are the four personality types according to the ancient Greeks and the humors that go with them?"

Lovino stared blankly. "The what now?"

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards in an amused grin. "Do you ever pay attention in class?"

"I do."

"Really? I don't think I've ever seen you take notes."

"Well, that wasn't what you asked. Taking notes and paying attention are two different things."

"I'm pretty sure you were on your phone the entire time yesterday."

Lovino was perfectly aware that he wasn't as diligent a student as he should be, and he didn't need to put up with these accusations. "Why the hell did you ask me to study with you if you knew I wasn't going to know anything we're supposed to know for the test?"

"Um."

Gilbert's eyes fell and his cheeks turned pink. The implication of that response made Lovino fidget awkwardly.

"So, anyway," he said to steer the conversation back on track, "the Greeks believed that personalities depended on these humors—fluids—in the human body. The different fluids were blood, phlegm, black bile, and yellow bile, and whichever one was most prevalent determined your temperament." He opened up his textbook and began reading from a table. "A sanguine's humor is blood. Their personality is optimistic and passionate. Phlegmatic's is phlegm. They're calm. Melancholic's is black bile. That one's obvious. Choleric's is yellow bile. They're irritable."

He looked back up at Lovino.

"I have a feeling you're choleric."

Lovino snorted. "I don't even understand why we have to know these things. With modern medicine, we know that the Greek theory about temperaments is bullshit."

"Parts of it are relevant," Gilbert said with a shrug. "It's kind of interesting."

"This is why I don't pay attention in class. We talk about shit like this—and _Freud_. We talk about Freud _all_ the fucking time. You know who don't talk about Freud? _Psychologists_. Because they know that ninety percent of what he spouted was literal garbage."

He gave a nod. "You're definitely a choleric."

Lovino narrowed his eyes at Gilbert.

"Okay," he said, chuckling, "so, you don't like psychology. What _do_ you like? What are you majoring in?"

Lovino nearly asked what the fuck that had to do with studying for the upcoming test, but he stopped himself, because he'd come to realize that smartass comments like that were the reason he'd had exactly zero second dates since he'd gotten to university. He wisely chose instead to say, "I'm majoring in Culinary Arts."

He didn't much like talking about his major, because people typically responded one of two ways. Either they went the politely disinterested route ("Oh, that sounds cool. So you like to cook, huh?"), or they would insist that he was just one of many lost souls following a fad perpetuated by reality TV and the success of competitive cooking shows.

Gilbert's eyes widened as if Lovino had just told him that his spit cured cancer. " _Really?_ "

"Um." Lovino wasn't prepared for that reaction. "Yeah?"

"Do you just get to make and eat delicious food _all day_?"

"Actually, it's mostly long lectures and even longer labs. We work under pressure and don't get a lot of free time. And we usually don't eat what we make."

His face fell. "Well, that's disappointing. What do you do with all that food?"

"We sell it to students to raise money for the department."

"What?!" Gilbert put both his hands on the table and lurched forward so fast that, for a second, Lovino thought he was going to leap over and tackle him. "You mean I can buy food on campus that doesn't make me want to gut myself?!"

" _Shh!_ " Lovino ducked his head and glanced around the library. Yup. People were definitely staring at them. Jesus Christ, this guy had no idea how loud he could be. Even when Lovino brought his attention to it, he didn't really seem to care. He just laughed it off good-naturedly, and his laughter filled Lovino's stomach with butterflies.

Fucking _butterflies_.

"Tuesdays and Thursdays around noon. That's when we sell to students," Lovino said once Gilbert's laughter died down. "If you ever want to stop by the department..." He couldn't remember ever meeting anyone who could light up as brightly, and for such a simple reason, as Gilbert did. "Only because you got so damn excited by the idea of food."

Gilbert grinned perceptively, and Lovino's face grow hot. What made the entire situation so pathetic was that he _knew_ Gilbert was seeing right through him, no matter what he said or how he tried to act. There was no point in pretending, and yet he couldn't will himself to stop.

Gilbert held out his hand to him and said, "Give me your phone."

He took out his phone without thinking, but then hesitated before turning it over to Gilbert, staring suspiciously at the open palm in front of him. "Why?"

"I'm going to give you my number."

Aaand, now he was panicking. " _Why?_ "

"In case you ever need a study partner again." Gilbert slid Lovino's phone out of his limp hand. He added under his breath, "Or, you know. For whatever."

He punched at the screen, which cast a glare against his lenses, and softly hummed to himself. It hardly felt real. Lovino watched him do it, he saw his name in his contacts when he was through. It still didn't make sense. Lovino tried to think of what he'd done in the past ten minutes that might have made Gilbert interested in him, what he'd done to make Gilbert ever notice him in the first place. He'd been his normal, gawky, crass self, and that never impressed anyone.

When it came time that they both had somewhere else they needed to be, they walked back to the front of the library together. They stopped for a moment just outside the doors for an awkward goodbye where Gilbert went for a knuckle bump and Lovino just stared at his fist for far too long before understanding what it meant. Lovino watched Gilbert walk away, careful that he was out of sight before he released his inner frustration through vociferous groans and plenty of hair pulling.

On his way back to his room, he was still so absorbed with cringing at himself that he almost didn't think to call Antonio to make sure he could actually could actually get inside once he got there. Antonio answered his phone with a cheerful, "Lovi!"

"Are you still in the room?"

"Hm? Yeah. Why?"

"Because," Lovino grumbled, "I forgot my fucking keys."

" _Again?_ "

Before he could respond, his text alert dinged in his ear. It was from Gilbert.

 _Someone's a persistent bastard._

That would probably get annoying down the road. But, for now at least, Lovino thought he didn't mind it so much. He put his phone back in his pocket after he'd gotten off the phone with Antonio, thinking it best to wait before replying. If nothing else, he could maintain a _little_ self-respect.

"How did it go?" Antonio asked back in their dorm room.

Being intentionally difficult, Lovino said, "How do you think?"

"Pretty good, considering the fact that you keep smiling to yourself."

Goddammit, had he been smiling? Well. There went the very last bit of his self-respect. He kicked his shoes off and collapsed onto his bed bunk. "Yeah," he said, pulling out his phone and opening his messages, "it went alright."

* * *

 **-What's with the title?  
**

 **I don't know. Had trouble thinking of one. I like the band Fair to Midland. The Greener Grass is one of their songs. I sort of stole the name. In my mind, it fits well enough.**

 **-Why was Gilbert wearing a map of Middle Earth t-shirt?**

 **Because he is an enormous dork, but in a cool kind of way.**

 **-Why is Lovino so nervous around Gilbert?**

 **Because it's Lovino? And I have this headcanon that he is bisexual, but goes after women more than men because, at least in his mind, women aren't as overtly sexual as men. Because men, commonly considered more sexually aggressive than women, intimidate him.**

 **-Why did you write Lovino as such a loser?**

 **Because I love him.**

 **-Why does college Lovino always major in Culinary Arts in your stories? Can't you think of anything else for him to do?  
**

 **...You ask too many questions.**


End file.
